Gilded Cage
by Cravats are cool
Summary: New York City is a far cry from what Phoenix Wright, humble Pennsylvanian is used to. There are gangs, and factories, and too many people. Yet in all of these big crowds, there's someone in particular that he is trying to find once again... Industrial Revolution AU featuring Wrightworth and Franmaya.
1. Chapter 1

_**August 3rd, 1839**_

The pounding of horse hooves as they pulled carriages down cobbled roads was the sound of a heartbeat. Large groups of people bustled through streets that branched like veins. Smoke billowed out of the top of factory smoke-stacks; the smoggy breath of the city. New York City was alive.

Despite himself, Phoenix paused for a moment to drink in the scene. The man suddenly felt very overwhelmed, dwarfed by magnificent buildings. _It's nothing like back home,_ he thought. Used to the weather of the south, even New York's bright summer warmth seemed cold. The sun had yet to rise, so the darkened streets had a chilly haze about it.

It was early in the morning. But it was not early enough.

 _What am I doing?_ Phoenix thought, jolting from his reverie, _I'm going to be late!_ Quickly, he started up again in a stumbling sort of half-run, looking for all the world like an awkward fawn. He scrambled through a herd of people, slinging "Excuse me!"s and "Coming through!"s haphazardly. In his haste, he banged his suitcase on an old woman's flower display and knocked it over.

The young man flinched when he heard the unmistakable sound of glass breaking. "Sorry!" he yelped.

"Whippersnapper!" The old woman screeched after him, shaking her fist at his back. Phoenix didn't stop.

Turning the corner he saw the barred gate of another factory come into view. From behind the gates, he could see a woman. The woman stared unwaveringly back at him. Feeling self-conscious, Phoenix sped up. As he was drawing near his destination, the young man tripped over a portion of jutted-out sidewalk and pitched forward. His head banged against the gate's bars. "Oww..." Phoenix whined and dropped his suitcase, rubbing his forehead pathetically.

The woman was still staring at him, her mouth pressed into a frown. She was very pretty, with long brown hair and bangs on the right side of her face that nearly covered her eyes. Her brown, hard, scary eyes. "You're late," she told him bluntly.

"Sorry, I got lost." Phoenix grinned sheepishly at her in an attempt to break the ice. From the look on her face, he guessed that it wasn't working. If possible, she looked even more unimpressed,

"How? New York is laid out in a grid system."

"It is? I didn't know." _I probably should've done some more research before I came here._

The woman on the other side of the bars uncrossed her arms and sighed. Thankfully, she dropped the scary look on her face. "What's your name?"

"Phoenix Wright. I moved here from Pennsylvania."

"Mia Fey. I'm the assistant overseer," The woman, Mia, returned. "It's a pleasure to meet you."

The young man's eyebrows raised. _Is it really?_ Mia was pinching the bridge of her nose like it was the linchpin holding her body together.

Mia had taken out a key and started to unlock the chains on the company gate. Phoenix watched and decided it was safe enough to make conversation. "So, um, if you're assistant overseer, then who's the overseer?"

"Diego Armando."

"Oh." It was interesting that a Spaniard would be in such a high position of authority, but then again, this place wasn't known for being a typical factory.

There was a loud creak as Mia removed the chains and pulled the gates open, "You'll meet him soon enough. If you're good, he probably won't bite."

"How reassuring," Phoenix muttered. The young man walked inside the gates. Gosh. It feels like a prison.

Mia turned around when she was finished re-locking the doors. "Now, since you somehow managed to get lost and be late-" she shot Phoenix a look and he winced, "-I'll have to give you the tour quickly so we can catch up to the others."

"That's fine by me." The young man looked up at the factory for the first time.

The main building loomed over him. There wasn't much to be said for the factory's looks. It was the size that was truly impressive. At the first glance alone, Phoenix saw at least five buildings. It was almost like a miniature city. Except, in this city, the man in charge was an immigrant named Manfred von Karma.

Phoenix knew of him. Everyone knew of him. All throughout the states, Manfred's name could be heard; spat like a curse on every street corner. The German man moved to America about twenty years ago, and wasted no time establishing the most successful textile empire in the country. There were nasty rumors of all kinds about how exactly he became so rich and powerful, and Manfred von Karma probably deserved every one. The man kept to a strict standard, and his textile factories were notoriously dangerous, even more so than a normal factory.

Mia followed his gaze up to the sign above the door where Manfred's name was etched. "Ah, yes," she said, attracting Phoenix's attention again. She gave him a sardonic little smile. "Welcome to the von Karma Textile Mill."

* * *

 _Women,_ Phoenix thought, _probably shouldn't be in the men's dormitory, right?_ The von Karma Textile Mills were known to be unorthodox. This was the only factory that Phoenix had heard of that employed both men and women alongside each other. But Phoenix had thought that surely Mia would have passed him off to a male worker for this part of the tour. He had thought wrong.

Even if Mia wasn't allowed, none of the men around were doing anything about it. Either the workers here simply didn't care, or, more likely, they didn't dare to challenge the woman. In honesty, Phoenix couldn't blame them. The assistant supervisor held her head high and walked with an air of authority that sent men scrambling to get out of her way.

"This will be your room," Mia opened a door to introduce him to a small, dingy room. Phoenix looked at her for confirmation and stepped inside.

He was greeted with an overpoweringly musty smell and the sound of continuous dripping from a leak in the ceiling. Most of the space was occupied by two beds, one of which had a third bed slapped on top of it. There was a candle sitting on a table that slanted to the right. A few planks were clapped onto one wall to make shelves. The other wall bore a jagged gash covered up by wood. _I don't want to know what happened there._

Ignoring his apprehensions, the young man set his suitcase down on one of the beds. Mia watched him from the doorway. "You'll be sharing this room with two other new workers. I expect you'll meet them soon."

I hope they're not crooks. "Where are they now then?"

"In the main building, with the other new recruits. Mr. von Karma is going to give a speech, and then we'll meet the new boss of the factory." Phoenix's heart sped up just slightly at the words.

The assistant overseer gave the clock in the hallway a once-over. She started walking towards the exit, and Phoenix was quick to follow."If we hurry, we might be able to get there on time."

* * *

They were able to make it on time. Mia whispered "Good luck," and then opened the door to the main factory building. She ushered him inside and then left. The sound of the door closing behind him sounded loud and awfully final in the crowded hall. _Wait, no, come back, Mia..._

It was a large room that was mostly full of wooden benches and tables lined in neat rows. Everyone else had already filled in, so Phoenix hurried to take a seat next to a small, mousy-looking girl with light brown hair and spectacles. There was a small stage at the forefront of the room. On the stage were two men, including the man himself.

Manfred von Karma was as intimidating as rumors had described. He had long hair, slicked back and completely overtaken by silver. The businessman was donned in a dark, three-piece suit and darker greatcoat. Everything about him was menacing; from his coal-black cane to his top hat.

All eyes were on the factory owner as he stepped forward. "I shall be brief," the man intoned in an impossibly deep voice. The muttered conversation among the new arrivals instantly died down to let the factory owner continue. Manfred paused, sweeping the room with a dark-eyed gaze. Phoenix held his breath as the man's glance passed over him.

Seemingly satisfied with whatever he saw in the crowd, Manfred went on. "My factories have a legacy of perfection. Though this is an," his lips curled in distaste, "experimental factory, each and every one of you will be held to that same standard. Should any worker prove himself to be disgracing instead of perpetuating that legacy, he would no longer have any place at this company." Von Karma's lips curled into a smirk. "If you aren't capable of perfection, worker, I beg you to reconsider your employment."

There was a tense silence among the workers. People shot one another nervous glances, strangers united in mutual anxiety.

Without warning, Manfred stamped his cane once on the wooden floor. The sound boomed throughout the large room, causing several people to jump. Like clockwork, the second man on the stage promptly stepped forward to Manfred's side.

"My protege." Von Karma inclined his head to the man beside him, "He will be the one supervising this particular factory."

The other man looked to be in his early twenties. He wore a jacket in a ridiculous shade of red with a cinched waist and long coattails. A white stock with two decorative strips hanging free was clasped around his neck. Despite the age difference, the young man's hair was as gray as Manfred's, and his countenance no less forgiving. The handsome, chiseled features of his face were etched in an unemotional expression.

Phoenix's heart lurched and he let a quiet gasp escape him. It's him! Von Karma's protege had aged, - quite well, he might add - but the man was unmistakably Miles Edgeworth.

 **Author's Note: This is sin, sorry not sorry. I hope you enjoyed; I'm already ten chapters into writing this so updates should be smooth. I hope you guys like this new story! Come scream with me in the comments, or on my tumblr! I'm .com I have too many feelings about this completely stupid AU.**

 **(fun history fact though: the industrial revolution is hard to pin down because it doesn't really have a set start and end time but i chose 1839 because pre-civil war the industrial revolution was a huge boom of textile manufacturing and i literally just didn't feel like writing about steel processing. also because i wanted it to be distinct from all the victorian aus and civil war aus. which i'm sure literally no one cared about but i wanted to clarify why this is set so early)**


	2. Chapter 2

**Author's Note: Fun fact that I'm definitely just putting out there on this chapter for totally no specific reason at all; there are no OCs in this story. So anyone in this fic is someone from canon.**

 _ **August 3rd, 1836**_

After both Manfred and Miles had finished speaking, the workers were dismissed to begin their fifteen hour workday. Phoenix lingered. He resisted the pull of the crowd, his heart thrumming in his chest. It's Miles! I've found him! He watched with anticipation while Manfred and Miles exchanged a few brief words before Manfred bid his protege goodbye and left the room.

 _Now's my chance!_ The last of the workers were making their way out of the room, and Phoenix pushed through a few strangers to get near the other man. He was summoning the breath and the courage to call out to the new factory owner, when-

 _Thump!_ Phoenix yelped as a strong arm landed around his shoulders and pulled the man into a headlock. "Nick! I can't believe you're here too; what a coincidence!" A familiar voice yelled into his ear.

"Larry?" Phoenix exclaimed with equal incredulously. "What are you doing here?" He twisted his neck to try to spot where Miles was. The other man was already starting to leave with a swish of his coattails. There was a big, bulky man walking after him. Drats! The worker directed his attention back to his remaining childhood friend. "I thought you were working as a shop clerk. ...And then for the railroad company. ...And then you were a logger. And then-".

"All just distractions, Nick, my man," Larry said, waving him off easily. "Distractions from my true passion; textile making!"

 _Oh boy. He's not going to make it here._

"Now that I have my dream job, nothing's gonna stop me from getting rich! I'll get a house! I'll have a slew of girls! I'll..."

While he was distracted, his grip loosened, and Phoenix was able to slip free from the other worker's hold. _He hasn't changed at all, he thought._

Larry really did look the same as ever. He wore the same oversized white shirt (perhaps with a few new holes in it) that had sleeves that came down past his hands. His grinning face was smudged with dirt, and he wore no shoes. And most importantly, he was _still_ talking.

"'I'll be famous! People will pay me just to see me smile!"

"That's great," Phoenix finally cut his friend off, only to be interrupted himself.

"It is great, Nick! Oh, I've even got this new gal! You should meet her, she's gorgeous!"

"I will meet her," the worker said. He pressed on Larry's back, gently but firmly, to steer him forward. "Later. First, we have work to do. I'd hate to get in hot water on the first day."

Larry dismissed him, "Aww, c'mon, Nick. That old gasbag didn't mean it." The friends filed in after the others. "He tries to be tough, but I betcha he wouldn't really send anybody packing."

"I doubt it. This is Manfred von Karma we're talking about here."

"Ha…! Are you kittens done gossiping yet?"

Kittens? Phoenix's mind numbly registered that the speaker must be talking to him. The crowd of workers squashed together on the small wooden platform were staring at him and his friend. A few stairs above the group, standing beside Mia, was the speaker.

He was a tall man with a untamed shock of hair and the proud owner of a smug, crooked grin that was a magnet for anyone's fist within a ten mile radius. But what really stood out about him was the thick layer of gauze wrapped around his face, covering his eyes.

"We weren't gossiping!" Larry protested hotly.

"Really? I'm glad to hear it. That would be a waste of everyone's time. Especially mine." The older man jumped down onto the platform. How can he see? He stalked towards Larry, stopping just short of being in the ginger man's face. "Time wasted isn't worth a drop of even the creamiest coffee."

 _What?_ The man nodded sagely, like what he said had made any sense at all.

Judging by the man's dark tinted skin and noticeable accent, Phoenix surmised that this weird older man was Diego Armando.

Diego continued, "By the way, your friend there is right." He said with entirely too much smugness. "Von Karma won't hesitate to throw you out. Neither will his protege." The overseer pushed past the ginger man and started heading down the rickety stairs. "So anyone who doesn't feel like getting fired today, come with me."

 _You kind of deserved that._ Phoenix shrugged at Larry and trooped downstairs with the rest of the workers.

At the bottom of the stairs was a sweltering, cavernous room. Aside from empty rows for pathways, It was crammed wall-to-wall with strange machines and people. The new arrivals stopped in the vacant space at the foot of the stairs to stare. Diego stood off to the side and nursed a cup of what Phoenix guessed was coffee.

The loud whiiirr of mechanics was a perpetual drone that Mia had to raise her voice over to be heard. "You're each going to be assigned a machine. You work at that machine until midday, where you get a break for lunch, and then you get back to it until your break for dinner. The work day ends at nine."

At that point, Mia pulled out her list of names and started to shepherd individual workers towards their work stations. She passed by near him, someone jumped back to get out of the assistant overseer's way and slammed into Phoenix.

"Oof!" Phoenix grunted. "Watch it!" He frowned down at his assailant, who was much smaller than him.

The boy couldn't have been older than thirteen. He wore a white shirt with jeans and suspenders and shoes, all of which were too big for him. He had a bright blue cap on, and black hair spilling out from under it. They hadn't even started working yet, but a combination of dirt and soot heavily obscured his face.

The kid squealed, "Sorry!" He didn't look very sorry at all.

"It's okay. ...How old are you, anyway?"

"Seventeen."

"Seventeen?" _Well, that's not what I was expecting at all._

The teenager puffed his cheeks out. "Yeah! What about it?"

"Uh, nothing, I guess."

"Michael! Phoenix!" Mia called.

"Yes, Si… supervisor lady ma'am?" the boy, Michael, apparently, spouted off quickly.

Mia gave him a weird look and Michael pulled his hat to cover his bright, copper eyes. "Your machines are over here. Follow me."

The two of them followed her, the boy always standing a little bit behind Phoenix. _I guess he's just intimidated by her, like the men in the dorms._

She lead them down a pathway and stopped at an empty machine. "It's all yours." The assistant overseer waved the two towards them and walked away.

Phoenix noticed a harsh-looking young girl in an impractically fancy dress concentrating on her work one station down. Michael also seemed to notice her, because he perked up and walked closer to her. The blue-haired girl didn't so much as look up at him.

Amused, Phoenix took the spot next to Michael and began working. _She's quite the beauty, but she's not very friendly. I hope the poor kid doesn't get his heart broken._

* * *

After dinner, Phoenix had gone looking for Edgeworth again, but to no avail. The factory was huge.

 _I'll need more than luck to figure out where Edgeworth's gone and holed himself up._

The worker returned to his dorm late at night and exhausted.

"Nick!" The boy from earlier, Michael, ran up to him. "Finally! Where have you been?"

Phoenix shrugged, changing into his nightclothes. "I was out looking for a friend."

 _Nick, huh? I wonder who he could have_ _ **possibly**_ _picked that up from…_

Sure enough, his second roommate made himself known in the form of Larry, springing up from where had been seemingly asleep in bed. "What type of friend? If it's a girlfriend you're looking for, I can help you out! I know a few girls who can overlook appearance... and personality!"

 _You're one to talk, Larry._

"He needs all the help he can get," Michael said teasingly.

Phoenix climbed into bed with as much dignity as he could muster. "Ha, ha. No, thank you. I'm not looking for a girlfriend."

"You should be. You're like what, thirty five? Tick tock, Nick." Michael sing-songed as he climbed to the top of the bunk-bed. He didn't even change out of his day clothes.

"I'm twenty four!" The young man kicked the underside of the boy's bed.

"Mmhm. Tomaeto, tomato. Ladder, step-ladder."

 _That_ was going over the line. "Step-ladders and ladders are completely different things!"

Michael poked his head over the side of the bed, holding onto his hat with one hand to ensure that it didn't fall off. "They're like basically the same thing! It's all about cultural assumptions, Nick. Don't be so narrow-minded."

What? Phoenix blinked quickly. "That didn't even make any sense!"

From the bed opposite, Larry whined, folding his pillow to cover his ears. "Stop bickering, you guys! It makes my ears bleed!"

The two fell quiet. But outside of their window, city life carried on well into the night. Even at this hour, there were horses clopping down avenues and people yelling in the streets. Lying awake in his bed, listening to the noises of New York, Phoenix stared up at the bed above him and resolved to do better.

 _I got distracted today. Tomorrow, I find Edgeworth and talk to him._

 **Author's Note: Sorry for the odd disclaimer at the beginning. And sorry about the lack of gay in this chapter. Not every chapter is going to feature the two of them together, which is probably weird for a shipping fic, but there's a lot of elements I want to do on the side. One of my favorite parts of (historical) AUs is experimenting with what different characters would be in that universe. I promise Wrightworth is still the focus though. Hopefully none of this turns anyone off.**

 **Anyway, I really hope that you enjoyed! Thanks for reading! And happy Mother's Day, guys!**

 **(fun history fact bc why not let's make that a thing: the lightbulb wasn't invented until 43 years later, so that makes factories suck even more bc they only had natural light and windows and they were working long hours like man it's no wonder people made mistakes and lost limbs and things this entire era was a recipe for disaster)**


	3. Chapter 3

**Author's Note: *skateboards away from end of year standardized tests and AP tests* Wow this is late! There'll be another update this weekend though, so I guess that's less for people to wait, which is good.**

 **As for that character from the last chapter... I'm not gonna confirm anything outright, but most people did probably catch the hints. It's honestly not meant to be much of a mystery, but I just couldn't resist a Mulanish element, okay? Whoever you're thinking the character is, I guarantee that's probably it.**

 _ **August 7th, 1836**_

"Michael, look out!"

Phoenix reached out impulsively to snag the young man's collar, and pull him back onto the sidewalk just as a large horse-and-carriage rolled past them. Heart racing, he turned to the boy and exhaled, "How did you not see that coming? Be more careful next time!"

Looking far more interested than terrified, Michael clapped his hands together and held them upright, "Wow! That one almost got me!"

"You could try to be a little less happy about it." A "thank you" wouldn't be amiss either.

The boy ignored him, starting to cross the now-empty street. "I've never been in a big city before. Everything's so cool!"

Phoenix was forced to follow. "Yeah, well, try not to get yourself killed. And don't forget what we're looking for."

"Right, right," The younger worker turned to face him, walking backwards as they talked. "You still haven't told me why we're trying to hunt down Mr. Edgeworth."

"I don't owe you an explanation." Phoenix said defensively. "You're the one who insisted on coming." The younger worker had attached himself to Phoenix in only the span of four days. Not that Phoenix minded; the boy was pleasant company. Most of the time.

Michael puffed his cheeks out childishly in indignation. "Hmph! Then good luck trying to find him without help. If you haven't noticed, Nick, this city is huge." He gestured around widely with his arms to helpfully demonstrate just how big New York was.

He has a point. Phoenix noted grudgingly. The young man sighed. "Fine. What do you suggest we do?"

Glancing around the bustling streets for inspiration, Michael perked up. "I know! There's Franziska, we can ask her!" The boy pointed at an austere young girl walking past smoking men on the sidewalk. Phoenix recognized her as the silent worker from two machines down.

Franziska, huh? "How do you know her name? She's never so much as looked at me."

"I talk to her on lunch breaks. Not all of us eat alone like losers, Nick." Still walking in reverse, and unable to pull his eyes off of the German girl, Michael tripped backwards over a box and landed on his back. The boy jumped back up hastily. "Do you think she saw that?"

"I'm sure she didn't." Phoenix's lips twitched in amusement. "...Michael, you're not sweet on her, are you?"

"What? No way!"

The young man chuckled. "Why not? You don't know; maybe she likes you too."

"Not a chance." Michael sighed.

"Why not?"

The boy looked down at the sidewalk. "Trust me. It could never happen."

Phoenix decided it was better not to press this particular strain of conversation. He changed the subject. "So why again do you think this girl could help us find Edgeworth?"

"She's a von Karma. She probably knows Mr. Edgeworth personally!" Quickly recovering, Michael darted off before giving Phoenix an opportunity to protest.

What? Phoenix stared after his friend in disbelief. Of all the people to fall for, you had to go for a von Karma? You're kidding me!

The boy had already started a conversation with the German girl. Upon Phoenix's approach, Franziska's head swiveled towards him, gray eyes hardening. She was, as always, richly dressed. She wore a frilly yellow dress, her blueish hair was piled on top of her head in curls. Strangely, she wore black riding gloves instead of the traditional white ones, and in her hands was a dainty, pale blue parasol that she brandished like a weapon.

Unsure of how to talk to someone so wealthy, Phoenix half-bowed to her very awkwardly. "I'm Phoenix Wright. It's nice to meet you."

Franziska pursed her lips, looking him over. "Of course it is." After a second, she seemed to deem his introduction worthy of reciprocating. "...I'm Franziska von Karma."

"She's Mr. von Karma's daughter," Michael added helpfully.

Geez. Even better. Phoenix resisted the urge to slap his hand to his forehead. At least she's lucky she didn't inherit Manfred's looks.

"If you're his daughter, why are you working? Shouldn't you be, err, bathing in diamonds? Or running the place or, something?" Phoenix scrabbled for small-talk.

"A woman in charge of a factory?" Franziska forced a bitter laugh, "Don't be foolish, Mr. Phoenix Wright." She sniffed. "It is a von Karma's duty to contribute to the family business as perfectly as I can, thus I work. And furthermore, Mr. Phoenix Wright," Her normally steely glare intensified. "You're avoiding the obvious subject at hand. I hear that you want to talk to Miles Edgeworth." Her hands tightened on the parasol. "What is it you want with my little brother?"

Phoenix blinked quickly. Little? "Excuse me, but how old are you?"

"Seventeen." Franziska raised her chin belligerently, daring him to comment.

"Right. Okay." Phoenix muttered. New York: the city where no one makes sense. The man saw no point in lying, so he said, "Your brother was a friend of mine when I was a kid. I want to talk to him."

There was a flash of recognition in Franziska's face before she squashed it. "I'm sure he doesn't want to talk to you."

"Fran," Michael pouted, tugging on Franziska's arm. "You must know where Mr. Edgeworth is. If he doesn't want to talk to Nick, then he can just leave."

Franziska scowled, but she didn't pull her arm out of Michael's grip. "My name is Franziska." At the boy's pleading face, she sighed. "As much as I would love to assist you, today isn't a good day. Miles Edgeworth has a meeting with my father to attend about how he has performed his first week of managing a company. He should be departing within the hour."

"Well then I'll go find him before he leaves!" Phoenix started to go, then turned back when he realized Michael wasn't following him. "Um, are you coming?"

The boy looked grudging to leave Franziska and, her seeming to sense this, the German girl spoke up. "Regardless of what you two fools intend to do, I'm going to return to work."

Michael gasped, "What? Really, Fran? It's lunch hour, we're on break!"

"Franziska." She corrected curtly. "As I said, working is my duty as a von Karma."

"You can't be serious." Michael whined.

The girl hesitated. "...I suppose I can wait to return to work until after lunch. Would you, ah, care to join me?"

The boy brightened. "That sounds great!" He glanced at his friend guiltily, "Um, hey, Nick, I'll catch up with you later, alright?"

"Sure." Phoenix felt a weird twinge as he watched the two walk away, Michael chatting to Franziska in earnest.

Turning his back on the retreating teenagers, Phoenix scanned the busy street. They didn't even tell me where he was leaving. Great.

* * *

After searching through the streets for nearly fifteen minutes, Phoenix was getting frustrated. The worker accidentally taken a wrong turn and found himself staring down a hazy alley of gamblers and criminals. He decided to stop looking.

Suddenly, out of the corner of his eye, he saw a flash of red. There he is! His previous decision was instantly overrided, Phoenix took off towards the red person.

As he neared, Phoenix heard someone shouting "Extra, extra, read all about it! 'Another Murder by the Mysterious De Killer Gang!'" at an incredible volume. Without a doubt, whoever it was had to be the loudest newsie he had ever heard.

He skidded to a halt in front of the person and realized too late his mistake.

"Gee, sir, you can really run. You must really want a newspaper." The flash of color was a short newsboy in his early teens. He was wearing a red overcoat several shades too bright to be Edgeworth's, and a corduroy newsboy cap. The newsie had a very youthful face with large brown eyes that were currently scrunched up at him.

Phoenix sighed and dug in his pockets for a few coins. It'd be harder to explain who I was looking for. I'll just pay for a stupid newspaper. "Uh, yeah. Y'know, current events. Fascinating stuff," he said hollowly.

"I agree!" The boy exclaimed, eagerly accepting Phoenix's lame excuse with eyes shining. "There's just so much going on: there's the war in Mexico, America's first president from New York, commercial trains!" He lowered his voice secretively, swapping a newspaper for Phoenix's money. "I heard there's even talk of some labor reform in Massachusetts."

"Oh. Wow." Phoenix said, more astonished by the boy himself than anything the boy had mentioned. "How do you know all that?"

The newsie opened and closed his mouth several times, blurting out, "Definitely not by reading the merchandise! Don't tell my boss."

Phoenix laughed. This kid's something else. "I won't. What's your name?"

"Me?" The kid straightened to his full height, which was still at least a head shorter than Phoenix. "My name is Apollo."

Apollo? Are you Greek? "Well, Apollo, I'm surprised you can read so well. I'm not even that good. Keep it up." The worker carelessly shoved his purchased newspaper into his pocket.

"Thanks, sir!" Apollo's chest was so puffed out with pride that he resembled a baby bird. "I'll try!"

Phoenix nodded. ...I've clearly made the kid's day. Maybe he can help me out. "Hey, Apollo, one more thing. Did you see a man with gray hair and a red coat come through here recently?"

The Grecian frowned. "Actually, yeah. I think I did. He walked past me to get his newspaper from Klavier across the street." The boy's frown deepened into a slight scowl at the name.

Must be a rival of his, Phoenix guessed.

"I tried to talk to him, but he just glared at me!" Apollo finished hotly.

"That sounds like who I'm looking for," Phoenix said wryly. Except not at all. Not like the Edgeworth I knew.

"He left a few minutes ago down the street. You can probably still catch him."

"Thanks."

"W-Wait, sir!" Phoenix turned back to Apollo, who seemed more unsure of himself. The boy swallowed. "There's actually someone I'm looking for too… Maybe you could help?"

I guess that's only fair. "Sure, I can try. Who is it?"

Looking relieved, the words came out in a hurried jumble from the boy's mouth. "It's my sister. She's really adventurous, and disappears on her own a lot, but never for this long, and Clay and I can't find her, and I'm getting worried. Her name is Trucy; she's only six. Can you tell me if you come across her?" Apollo looked up at Phoenix earnestly. "Please?"

Come on, that's not fair. There's no way I can resist a plea like that. After a short hesitation, the worker put his hand on the little Grecian boy's shoulder. "If I find your sister, I'll let you know. And I'll tell my friends to keep a lookout too." He shook the kid's hand. "Oh. My name's Phoenix Wright, by the way."

"Th-Thank you, Mr. Wright," Apollo stammered out. The Grecian returned the handshake, dumbfounded. "I really appreciate it!" He yelled louder, hurting Phoenix's ears.

The factory worker nodded and pulled back from him. He started to walk away.

I've got someone else to find first...

 **Author's Note: Next scene finally has Edgeworth! And that carriage chase thing from the tags! It'll be a good time, I promise. Thanks for reading, everybody!**

 **(fun historical fact: everything that Apollo mentioned for news is true. the war with Mexico referenced was really the Texas Revolution; the actual Mexican American War wouldn't come into ten years later. the first pres who was born in NY was Martin Van Buren previous vice pres to Andrew Jackson and Van Buren in 1836 was busy being elected bc he then started his term in 1837. the Baltimore and Ohio railroad was the first common carrier railroad and it had opened in 1830 and also in 1836 Massachusetts initiated the first child labor law requiring that working children less than 15 had to attend school at least 3 months out of the year. that's like four facts for the price of one there you go.)**


	4. Chapter 4

_**August 7th, 1836**_

The day's hour long lunch break was nearly up. Phoenix's stomach gnawed at him absentmindedly, like a tired dog chewing an old bone; reminding the worker that he still hadn't stopped to eat. I'm never going to find him at this rate, A traitorous voice in the back of Phoenix's head spoke up. I might as well give up, I can always look later. Reluctantly surrendering to this voice, the man turned to go back to the factory before his time was up.

Emerging from an alleyway, Phoenix stopped by the side of the street. He took in a breath, enjoying the smell of rain from earlier that day. The man scuffed his shoe against the street. Amused by the action, he did it again, staring down at the ratty, worn leather of his shoe. _I guess,_ he mused idly, _If I were rich, my shoes would be all black and fancy and polished. But what are the chances of that ever happening?_

 _Splash!_ The roar of carriage wheels skimmed through a puddle next to the sidewalk, sending dirty water scattering and soaking Phoenix where he stood. "Hey!" The man yelped and jumped back from the road. Holding his arms out and away from his body, Phoenix looked up to glare balefully at the retreating black-and-green carriage responsible for this injustice to his clothing.

His mouth dropped open. One dark horse pulling the sleek, brougham-style carriage jangled its way down the pavement. Through the small back window of the vehicle, Phoenix could make out a lone passenger wearing a fancy magenta suit. _It's Miles! This time it's got to be!_ _I've got to catch up with him before he goes to his meeting!_

Impulsively, Phoenix started to run after the carriage, his heart pounding along in rhythm to the sound of his feet striking the ground with every pace. He pushed through a group of people who weren't walking fast enough. The man nearly knocked over an old lady, barely recognizing her from three days ago. Her response was predictable:

"Whippersnapper!"

The worker didn't bother responding. He was breathing too hard, arms swinging too violently to focus on anything other than chasing down the carriage. Miraculously, Phoenix was already closing in on the vehicle. Perhaps it was because the carriage was too heavy for the horse, or its driver too gentle, because after only a minute of hard running, the young man was able to draw even with the carriage.

Switching off of the sidewalk to the road in a wide swing, Phoenix dodged a vender and caught up with the vehicle once more. On the back of the carriage, the two narrow strips of metal used to transport luggage were unoccupied. _Will this even work?_ Phoenix thought, heart in his throat. _...Time to find out._ The man took a deep breath and leapt for the luggage rack.

The worker landed heavily. A metallic sound rang out under the impact, but the rack did not break away. He wobbled precariously on the thin rung and used the momentum to thrust himself forward and hug the back end of the carriage. By some stroke of bad luck, the carriage picked up speed at that moment, causing Phoenix to lurch dangerously. The worker clung for dear life to the back of the carriage, watching the cobblestone woosh under his feet. _Great idea. What now?_

Phoenix's noisy intrusion had not gone unnoticed. The man riding in the carriage stuck his head out of the half-open window to look around for the source of the noise. His wide silvery gaze set upon the other man. "Ph- Wright?" Without a doubt, this time it was Edgeworth. His gray hair whipped around his face as the horse raced on. Edgeworth's hard features were furrowed into understandable confusion.

"Hi," Phoenix pried one hand off of the carriage to wave a sheepish greeting.

Edgeworth didn't seem amused. "What the hell are you doing here?"

"I work in your factory."

"You work in my-?" The factory owner cut himself off and shook his head. He had to shout to be heard over the sound of racing hooves and the cutting whistle of the wind. "I meant; what in God's name are you doing hijacking my carriage!"

"I, uh, wanted to talk to you!"

Edgeworth snorted. "And you couldn't think of a better way to get my attention?"

Phoenix felt like he'd gotten the wind knocked out of him, All of the words that bubbled to the top of the worker's mind were slowly, painfully swallowed. They got stuck in his throat, leaving him with nothing to say. _Wow. This is… this was really stupid, wasn't it?_

After a hesitation that was far too long, the man scrabbled to provide an explanation. "I tried looking for you in the city and in the factory, but I couldn't find you! And then I… I saw your carriage go by, and I just really wanted to talk to you, and I-"

He faltered. Phoenix swore up and down that Edgeworth had never had that throbbing vein in his temple when they were kids. "...I don't have time for this," the scowling factory owner muttered. Edgeworth turned to glare at the front of the carriage, "Gumshoe, stop this carriage immediately!"

 _Gumwho?_

"Y-Yes, sir!" Came a startled voice from up front. The carriage slowed to a halt on the side of the road. The driver, an enormous, burly man clad in a patchy green riding coat, clambered down from his seat. He made his way over to Edgeworth's window.

"Something wrong, sir?"

The factory owner huffed. "It appears that we've picked up an unwanted stowaway."

Dizzy, and feeling vaguely like he was about to vomit, Phoenix stepped down from the luggage rack on wobbling legs. "I was just trying to talk to Edgeworth," the young man protested weakly.

"Yeah, well Mr. Edgeworth doesn't wanna talk to you, pal!"

Phoenix flinched. "Um, maybe if I picked a better time? Could we talk later?"

"No, Wright." Now Edgeworth wasn't even looking at him.

Irritation flashed in the worker's blue and brown eyes. "Do you even remember who I am?"

The other man's countenance was guarded, but he still answered. "Of course."

"Then don't you think you should talk to me?" Phoenix challenged, "You disappeared on me, then all of a sudden, you started showing up in the papers. They're saying horrible things about you." _Things that are nothing like you. They have to be wrong!_ "I have so many questions. You have to let me ask..."

Edgeworth's gray eyes held a flash of hesitation. It disappeared so quickly that Phoenix had to wonder if it was there at all. The other man clicked his tongue. "Don't force me to have Gumshoe remove you."

Glancing over at the said carriage driver, Phoenix could see Gumshoe frowning. Strangely, the large man's frown was aimed at Edgeworth, not at Phoenix, and it seemed almost concerned, more than anything. Gumshoe wasn't a threat at the moment. Phoenix decided to press harder.

"Please. Remember, fifteen years ago? You… you and your father sa-"

"Leave."

The command was so sudden it seemed to shock even Edgeworth himself. The young factory owner withdrew into his carriage, hunching over and gripping his elbow. "Now."

"Edgeworth, I-" Phoenix wilted.

"You're lucky that I don't have you fired, Wright. Don't make me repeat myself."

"...Sorry." Phoenix muttered. With no other options at the moment, the young man turned and left the carriage behind.

* * *

 _Nice going, Phoenix,_ the man thought bitterly as he walked through the factory to the set of stairs. He was painfully late to returning to work, and would probably have to stay after to make up for the lost time. _How are you ever going to help Edgeworth now? It's the whole reason you even came to New York, and in three days you've already messed up!_

"Wow, Trite, you look like the kitten that lost the mouse from right under his claws."

"Gah! Don't do that!" Phoenix jumped away from a grinning Diego Armando. _It gives me the creeps when he prowls up on you from out of nowhere._

The Spaniard shrugged. "I wasn't sneaking. You weren't paying attention."

 _That's probably true._ "...Wait. How can you tell what I look like? You're blind."

"Yeah, thanks for telling me." The Spaniard said wryly. "I'm not deaf. I could hear your sighing from across the factory." The older man took a long sip of his drink. "What kitten's got your coffee cold?"

Phoenix sighed. "It's a long story." _Definitely not one I want to talk to you about._

"Maybe I can help shorten it."

"What? How?"

Diego smirked. He reached into his vest stealthily, like he was about to pull out a gun. Phoenix blanched, but nothing happened. When the young man worked up the courage to open his eyes and look at the object in the overseer's hands, he found that he was being offered a benign piece of paper.

Confused, Phoenix took the card from him.

 **You are cordially invited to**

 **The Von Karma Invitational Summer Ball**

 **Von Karma Hall**

 **September 1st**

"What does this have to with anything?" The worker blinked at the invitation.

Diego shook his head. "Ha…! No need to thank me all at once now. Think of it as a gift. For your kitten."

 _...He thinks that this is about a girl._ Phoenix realized with horror. He felt his cheeks grow hot, and was suddenly very grateful that the other man wasn't capable of seeing him blushing. "I-It's not like that!" _There are so many things wrong with that, I can't even begin to describe. For one, Edgeworth's a man!_

"Sure it's not, Trite," Diego folded his arms across his chest with a knowing grin. "But, if it did happen to be like that," he mimicked Phoenix's panicked tenor, "you should bring her with you. It'll impress her. The most powerful men in New York will be there."

 _The most powerful men in New York.._. "Why are you giving this to me?"

"Trite, I'm blind. My dancing days are behind me. So do us all a favor and take care of your stupid crush. That way, maybe you don't come to work an hour late."

Phoenix let out a flustered huff. _You're completely wrong._ "It won't happen again." He started to head downstairs to the workroom when a thought occurred to him. The man quickly turned back. "Wait, I can't dance! I don't even a suit!"

"Tch. Does that look like my problem?" Diego pushed past him, going the other direction. "I've done enough. A man has to drink the coffee he's been poured. That's one of my rules."

 _Gee, thanks._ Phoenix walked down the stairs to the hot, dark workroom. The loud, growling sound of machinery filled the air. _Mr. Armando aside, this ball is a great opportunity. Edgeworth's bound to be there, and with everyone else around, there's nowhere for him to go. He has to talk to me!_

 _This could be the chance I was waiting for!_

 **Author's Note Diego is so wrong. If you're blind, you don't have to give up dancing. Don't listen to him.**  
 **But no, of course I couldn't resist sticking a ball in there. Old-timey balls are amazing and I will include them 1000% of the time that I can bc I am weak.**

 **And the carriage chase was literally just Phoenix being silly and chasing a carriage. Hope that doesn't disappoint. Anyway, this is first chapter Edgeworth and Phoenix actually interact. So I really hope that too doesn't disappoint! Edgeworth is being a dick right now, and there's going to be more of him from here on in.**

 **I'm glad some people are enjoying this, I hope people continue to! Thanks for reading!**

 **(fun historical fact: brougham carriages, the type that Edgeworth rides in, were technically not made until 1838/1839, and even then their origin was in London, not New York. It's admittedly inaccurate, but it was the only carriage I came across that looked like I was imagining. I cannot attest to whether its luggage rack would be sturdy or thick enough to ride on irl bc it looks really thin and precarious. Phoenix is dumb enough to do it, but I wouldn't recommend it for like actual people.)**


	5. Chapter 5

_**August 26th, 1836**_

"Whooa, Nick, you look spiffy!" Michael poked his head in the door. He grinned cheekily and walked into the shared dorm. "For an old man, I mean."

"Thanks, Michael," Phoenix rolled his eyes as he adjusted his bow tie.

He'd never worn a suit before. It was as uncomfortable as he had imagined, but the worker couldn't exactly say he entirely hated the experience. The handsome dark blue suit fitted him well, and it made him look wealthier than he was. Wearing it, Phoenix felt dapper. And rather awkward.

"Lemme guess," Michael swayed towards him, hands tucked behind his back, "You got invited to the von Karma ball, didn't you?" He giggled. "I did too!"

Phoenix's left hand found a way to his hair and entangled itself in his spikes. "It was more of a fluke, my getting invited, but yeah."

"Well, I wasn't invited!" The huddled form on the stand-alone bed piped up. "How could they not invite _me_?" Larry pulled his head back from the mass of blankets to reveal his snotty, tearful face matted with ungroomed hair.

He'd become near catatonic and stayed that way for almost a week after Phoenix casually mentioned the dance.

 _Drama queen._

"Oh." Michael blinked at Larry, wide-eyed. "I'm sorry."

"I'm sorry too!" Larry whined. "Sorry I won't be able to experience a night of rich people and love!"

He withdrew back into his cocoon of blankets, becoming silent, aside from the occasional pathetic mewling noise.

"So..." Michael said, deciding, wisely, to ignore the sobbing man. "Where did you get a suit like that, Nick? I could use one."

"The Chief picked it out for me." Mia had been very helpful. She knew more about suits than Phoenix did, and she'd found the perfect suit with the level of strategy and command befitting a military officer, inspiring her new nickname.

Michael nodded absentmindedly. "It looks like one of Mr. Armando's old ones..."

"You know what Mr. Armando's old suits look like? I thought he always wore the same thing." Phoenix asked mildly.

"Er, no!" The boy clenched his hands into fists, "It just looks like his kind of style, that's all!"

"Please. He wears green and white together."

"That's because he's blind, Nick."

"And what, he didn't use to be?"

"Duh." Michael rolled his eyes. "You didn't know that?"

Phoenix blinked. "No, actually."

The boy tapped his chin, "It was a factory accident. There was this crazy girl like three years ago who did something horrible and blinded him for good. I don't know all the details."

 _You sure seem to know a lot for someone who just got here._

"Waaaah!" Larry pushed back into view, tears streaming down his face. "Ball this, suit that; you're tormenting me! Get lost already!"

 _Wh-What?_ "We were talking about Mr. Armando, not the ball!" The spiky-haired worker protested.

His friend would have none of it, Larry stood and started pushing Phoenix and Michael out of the room. "Go have fun without me, leave a loser to his loser self! Get out of here! Scat!"

The door shut behind them.

 _Great. Thanks a lot, Larry._ Phoenix sighed, shoving his hands into the pockets of the suit he was trapped out in. "Well, I guess we're not getting to sleep for at least another hour. Want to go see if Chief has a suit in your size?"

"No way!" There was a pause. Michael cleared his throat, "I don't want to bother Ms. Fey. It's getting kinda late. Let's take a walk."

Phoenix griped, _You never worry about bothering me late at night._ The man let it slide. "A walk sounds nice."

The friend walked down the empty, blue hallway of the men's dormitory. Michael hummed. "Well, actually, there is one _tiny_ little thing I want to do..."

* * *

Once they were out in the heart of the city, Michael couldn't stand still. He kept looking from side to side and bouncing around, inadvertently tripping Phoenix up.

"Michael, what was it you wanted to do?" Phoenix prompted, sidestepping the kid. The boy didn't seem about to reveal anything without being reminded.

"Right, that!" Michael leapt atop the brick wall lining the sidewalk. He held his arms out for balance and walked alongside Phoenix. "I just happen to know that Fran usually has someone do her laundry out here and she goes to pick it up around now. That's all."

The boy paused in his walking, glancing down at Phoenix from his perch. "Wanna say hi?"

The man smirked at him. "Of course I'll say hi to your girlfriend." He looked at Michael sidelong. "You should really ask her to the ball, you know."

"What?" Michael exclaimed, teetering dangerously on the elevated brick. The boy grabbed Phoenix's shoulder and used it to steady himself. The taller worker let him. "She's not-! I'm not-!" The smaller worker puffed his cheeks out and clenched his fists tight. " _Ni-ck!_ "

The man let out an innocent whistle. "You two seem very close..."

"That doesn't mean we're dating!"

Phoenix pointed at him, "I've seen you two go out for lunch."

"As friends! Friends don't ask friends to go to balls," Michael crossed his arms with a huff. "And why should I ask? She'll be there already anyway. Her dad's the one hosting it."

 _Good point._ "You're not afraid that she might say no?"

"No. Because I know she'd definitely say no." Michael untensed. His head dropped.

"No she won't," Phoenix patted his younger friend's shoulder. "I've seen you two spend time together. She actually smiles around you; she's crazy about you. Give yourself more credit."

"It's different than that."

 _You keep saying that,_ the man thought with irritation.

Michael toyed with his cap. "What if she says no?"

"If Franziska says no, she says no. What's the worst that can happen then?"

"She could get her dad to sue me!"

 _That was rhetorical._ Phoenix sighed. "She won't do that.."

He saw Franziska walking down the street. She was holding freshly done laundry in hand, just as the boy had said. From the look of things, the kid had also taken notice of the German girl. He stared at her with poorly-hidden longing. "Okay, Michael, we're doing this. You're asking her to the ball now."

Not giving him an option, Phoenix lifted Michael off the wall and set him down on the sidewalk. The man started walking towards the blue haired girl, leaving Michael to follow.

"You're crazy. Franziska and I, we can't-" Michael hissed quietly, trotting to keep pace with the taller man's stride.

Phoenix ignored her. _You two have been dodging around it for more than a month now. Someone has to do something._ He waved at Franziska, stepping into the girl's way. She stopped, looking at him in annoyance. Her eyes softened fractionally upon seeing Michael behind the man. "What is it you want, Mr. Phoenix Wright?"

Franziska looked, as always, immaculate. Even when carrying a full load of laundry, she still managed to hold her parasol with poise that bordered on danger.

Needless to say, Phoenix couldn't have been happier to push the spotlight away from him. "Actually, it's Michael who's got the question."

The girl's attention swiveled to the boy. He started playing with his hat again, some black hair spilling into his face as he did so. "It was Nick's idea, really," the kid muttered.

Phoenix took a step back. _To think, in a few short minutes, I won't have to suffer through them circling each other anymore._

Michael took a deep breath. "...Fran, I think you're really great, and you're fantastic, and you're pretty." He blurted out quickly. The boy didn't stop there. "And I think you have the nicest laugh, when you do laugh, which I guess isn't often, but it makes it even better when you do, and I like spending time with you a lot… and… and will you go to the ball with me?"

Franziska's gray eyes flashed shock. The blue-haired girl clutched her laundry tightly. She looked over at Phoenix briefly, before refocusing on Michael. "I..." Her cheeks colored faintly and the German girl managed a tight nod. "Yes. Th-That would be to my satisfaction. Thank you."

"Yes?" Michael's eyes widened. The smaller worker jumped up and down, "Yes! Wow! This is awesome!"

The German girl allowed herself a tiny, fond smile while watching the boy. She immediately banished it when she caught Phoenix staring, to his dismay.

"Mr. Phoenix Wright, don't you have something else you could be doing?" The blue-haired girl hastily extended her parasol in the man's direction, but it didn't have quite the same effect when she was fighting back a light blush.

Franziska prodded him with it. "Michael and I have much to discuss. Leave."

Michael was in just as much of a rush. "Yeah, yeah. I'll see you later, Nick; thanks for all your help." He didn't look at the other worker. He couldn't even pry his eyes off Franziska. "Good luck with Larry."

"I'll need it. G'night." _I'll leave you two lovebirds alone._ Phoenix stepped away from the point of Franziska's parasol and walked back up the street.

 _I knew that would work._ Phoenix thought smugly. _...I hope they don't stay out here too long; it's getting late. The city isn't the safest place at night._

He looked back briefly at the friend he had left behind. Down the dim, candle-lit street he could barely make out the two teenagers standing very close to one another, holding hands and speaking in quiet murmurs. Phoenix felt that same twinge of jealousy inside again and it overrided his worry for their safety. He hurriedly turned away, assuring himself that they would be fine. _You're happy for them,_ he chided mentally. _You're glad they finally worked things out._

The man took a turn and got a head start toward the men's dormitory. He had a feeling Michael was going to be a while.

In his wake, Franziska's parasol clattered to the cobblestone as she and Michael kissed, puncturing the silence of the midnight streets.

 **Author's Note: gaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaay**

 **Phoenix is the master of pining and also a big fat hypocrite. A month is nothing compared to 15 goddamn years. I know that this was sort of a filler chapter to get some of that side pairing attention on it, but next chapter is the ball, and more of our main pairing. Thanks for reading, feedback is really appreciated. Hope you enjoyed!**

 **(fun historical fact: maybe this is an obvious one but commoners would never get invited to a super fancy ball. it would just be important businessmen and wealthy families.)**


	6. Chapter 6

**Author's Note: Happy Father's Day!**

 **I'm finally done with exams and school (I'm gonna be a senior now, yikes!) And of course, on Thursday, my area was hit by a huge storm that made us lose all power. We only just got it back yesterday night. My first few days of summer and there was no electricity for like three days. I nearly died. But I'm back, and now that I have so much freetime, I can update on time easily!**

 _ **September 1st, 1836**_

The evening air was humming with excitement when Phoenix arrived. He could hear the lilt of music coming from the Gatewater Imperial dancing hall in waves. The outside of the hall was brightly lit by many candles. The waltzing candlelight illuminated the pale buds of white roses strung around the building in leafy garlands. Cool white fabric billowed from the inside of the hall, toyed with by the lazy, end-of-summer wind.

Horses and their carriages pulled up beside the grand building. When stopped, they released similarly grandly dressed people in dark suits and long gowns. Phoenix looked at his own hand-me-down suit and shoddily polished shoes, courtesy of some shoe shiner kid named Clay that Apollo knew (the kid had tried his best, but he wasn't very good). The worker wondered, not for first time, whether he had dressed formally enough.

 _I'm not going home now,_ Phoenix decided, _I'm just going to go in._ The man swallowed and started for the building. Trying to remember everything Chief had run over with him about etiquette and dancing, Phoenix climbed the steps. At the top, he heard a high pitched voice shouting over the quiet tittering of other ball-goers.

"Nick, wait for us!"

Phoenix turned and watched Michael walk up the steps, arm-in-arm with Franziska. The von Karma nodded at him.

"Good evening, Mr. Phoenix Wright."

Michael ignored the formalities altogether. "How we look?"

The German girl looked stunning, wearing a pale blue dress dotted with pink flowers. There was a white bow around her neck and matching blue broach. Her parasol had been swapped out a fan.

Michael wore a glossy black suit and crisp white shirt that looked ten times more expensive than Phoenix's. He had on a bowler hat. There was purple flower in Michael's lapel that the other man couldn't identify.

"You look great." The trio walked towards the dancing hall.

Franziska said smugly, "Naturally."

"Thanks!" Michael chirped, tipping his hat to the older man. "Fran bought me this suit; it's custom-made and everything!"

"You have to look perfect for the ball." Franziska straightened the flower in Michael's lapel.

As they entered through the big doors, the conversation was overwhelmed by the sound of music. Off to the right, there was a mini orchestra playing a waltz at a moderate tempo. Several bodies swayed to the beat in the middle of the floor, and even more hovered to the side in groups. Most of the room was lit by the twenty-or-so candles on an enormous, brassy chandelier that observed the scene impartially, like a judge. The hall smelled of alcohol and was filled with the sounds of clinking glasses and polite chatting.

Michael tugged on Franziska's sleeve. "Ooh, c'mon, Fran, I really like this song! Let's dance before it ends!"

"Not yet." Franziska wagged her fan at the boy, "I have to introduce you my Papa."

"Oh, right." The younger worker stopped tugging. "We should do that first."

"I agree. Goodbye for now, Mr. Phoenix Wright."

"Good luck," Phoenix wished them.

Franziska didn't seem to hear it. "Be a gentleman," she whispered fiercely to Michael.

Michael promised, "I will," and the two teenagers disappeared into the swell of the crowd.

 _Great. What do I do now?_ Phoenix ran a hand through his hair.

The young man turned away from the dance floor. _Drat. I don't recognize any of these people!_ Strangers waltzed all around him. Women he didn't know sat to the side of the hall, waiting for men he didn't know to ask them to dance. On the other side of the room, the worker could see Franziska introducing Michael to an impassive Manfred von Karma.

Not in the mood to make any new friends that night, Phoenix decided to get some punch. He walked towards an unusual waiter with stitches down his face who was bearing a tray of the stuff. As he walked, he caught random snatches of conversation from party-goers as he walked by.

"'s the newspaper going, Mr. Gavin?"

"...family rumors,"

"You're hilarious!"

"The De Killer gang..."

When Phoenix reached the strange-looking waiter, the other man sunk into a bow. The waiter handed the worker a drink without prompting. "I hope you enjoy your evening, Mr. Wright," the man said before gliding to another corner of the room.

"Uh, yeah, you too!" Phoenix called after him belatedly. He took a sip of his punch before turning around, running right into someone else. The surprise collision thankfully didn't propel his drink onto the other person, but rather turned it back and spilled all over himself.

"Shoot!" Phoenix exclaimed, dropping his glass to try and rub out the stain on his crisp white shirt. _Oh, I really hope the Chief doesn't need this back. She'd kill me!_ Despite his best efforts, the blooming crimson spot on his chest wasn't going anywhere. The young man was able to cover up the damage by buttoning his suit jacket over it.

"Clumsy as ever, I see, Wright," a familiar baritone voice intoned.

Phoenix looked up from his buttoning and his heart dropped.

Miles Edgeworth looked gorgeous. His suit was a deeper wine-red color than normal. Like Michael, in his lapel was another flower Phoenix couldn't identify. This time it was green. The young factory owner also wore a black waistcoat patterned with ornate golden swirls that clung tight to his body, and was, in Phoenix's opinion, _very_ complimentary to his figure. Around the other man's neck was a fancy white cravat with more layers than any other Phoenix had ever seen. A sleek top hat crowned his head, pushing his gray bangs down to frame his face prettily.

Phoenix's heart picked itself up from his stomach and started to beat double-time. The young man realized that he was staring. And that he had hesitated far longer than normal to respond to the other man's comment.

He cleared his throat. "Y-Yeah, I guess so." He smiled sheepishly at Edgeworth. His heart showed no signs of slowing down.

 _Why do you make me feel this way? **What** am I feeling?_

"I didn't expect to see you here," Edgeworth continued as if that long pause hadn't happened.

"I didn't expect to see you here either."

"You didn't? Not at my own father's ball?"

"Manfred von Karma's your father?" Phoenix asked with surprise.

Edgeworth shifted his weight from foot to foot. "Adopted." He said stiffly.

 _Your father is dead?_ Phoenix realized with even more surprise. He almost voiced the thought aloud. _Hold it, Phoenix! The last time you tried to pry, Edgeworth didn't want anything to do with you. Don't shut him down this time._

Phoenix steered the subject away from danger. "I, uh, like that flower thing-y of yours."

"Boutonniere." Edgeworth corrected. "Thank you. It's a green carnation." The factory owner paused. As if that was supposed to mean something important. Phoenix didn't have a clue what.

They lapsed into silence again. The sound of the orchestra and shuffling footsteps overtook their conversation. Phoenix had the sudden, almost irresistible urge to ask Edgeworth to dance. The young man bet that Edgeworth was a fantastic dancer.

He restrained himself from asking. Barely. Two men couldn't dance together. Not in the way that a man and a woman could. Even the thought was ridiculous. _But still,_ a treacherous part of Phoenix whispered, _You would like that, wouldn't you?_

"Wright." Edgeworth spoke again, gaining Phoenix's attention. The man crossed his arms and wouldn't look at the worker. "...About what I said a month ago." He mumbled something unintelligible. "I… I wish that perhaps I had not sent you away so quickly. Looking back on it, perhaps I was slightly hasty."

 _Is that supposed to be an apology?_ "It's fine," Phoenix reassured him.

Edgeworth inclined his head to the worker. "At the time, I was very busy and you," the factory owner's eyes sharpened, "decided to jump on the back of my carriage and steal a ride. Needless to say, you should not repeat that ridiculous stunt ever again."

"U-Understood." The young man rubbed the back of his neck. _Man, I don't know if I'll ever live that one down._

The gaze lost its edge. "I had no time to discuss anything at that point. But… I've had time to think, and... outside of that absurd situation, I would not dislike if we spoke. Later."

Phoenix's heart fluttered. "That would be great! Anytime you want!"

"Good." Edgeworth nodded. "My office is on the top floor of the main building. Gumshoe can show you in. Schedule some time during a lunch break and see that you don't miss work."

"Sure! Err. How about tomorrow?"

"Tomorrow would be agreeable for me." Edgeworth took out a small leather planner and jotted the date down, He held up a finger. "And Wright. I make no promises, I reserve the right to refuse to answer any of your typical prying queries. I'll turn you out in a second if I don't think our conversation is beneficial."

"Right." Phoenix swallowed. _That's a lot of pressure to put on one guy._

"Glad to hear it."

* * *

The rest of the evening had gone fantastically. Phoenix and Edgeworth had talked more through the whole evening. He'd even made Edgeworth laugh! _Well, nearly laugh. It's hard to tell with Edgeworth,_ he corrected. Late that night, Phoenix walked back to the factory. Even as he climbed the stairs to his dorm, it felt like his feet weren't touching the ground. His heart was light. Turning the doorknob, Phoenix idly hummed a pleasant tune.

When he opened the door and looked inside, he noticed that Larry was nowhere to be seen. Knowing him, the man was probably off getting drunk or, less likely, getting lucky. But the thing that immediately seized Phoenix's attention was the stranger standing in the middle of the room. Phoenix's breath caught audibly in surprise, causing the figure to freeze.

It was a young girl with long dark tresses. She had her back turned to Phoenix, but it looked like she was in the middle of unbuttoning her shirt. Strangely, she wasn't wearing a skirt, but instead a man's suit. The young man looked closer at her and saw, in her jacket pocket, the head of a purple flower sticking out.

It clicked.

"You're a girl?" Phoenix exclaimed.

The girl turned to look at him, eyes round and scared. Even with her hair down, Phoenix could recognize her. It was Michael.

 **Author's Note: everyone, you were right. It feels so great to finally have that cleared up. Everyone seemed to get it, and a lot of you found basically every hint there was. And there were a lot, it wasn't supposed to be some huge shocking reveal except to the characters, so we'll have to see where that all goes next. Feedback is appreciated, thanks for reading, and enjoying!**

 **For the crowd, I completely forgot to update here, which is why there's three new chapters up today. I'm more of an AO3 person, but now you're all caught up to everyone else! Sorry about that!**

 **(fun historical fact: the Gatewater Imperial ballroom is based more on a real life New York ballroom than the actual game location. It's called the Alhambra Ballroom. It was founded in 1905, but I think it's pretty, so there. Look it up if you want to.)**


	7. Chapter 7

_**September 1st, 1836**_

"Please don't tell anyone!" Was the first thing out of Michael's mouth. His, no- her fingers flew back upwards, hastily rebuttoning her shirt.

Many questions spun around in Phoenix's brain, whirling so fast that he couldn't get a grip on what to ask first. "Y-You're a girl?" He stammered out dumbly.

"Obviously." She moved over to sit down on Larry's bed.

Phoenix walked to sit across from her on his own bed.

"Um." The worker ran a hand through his hair awkwardly. "...Why did you pretend to be a boy then?"

"It's complicated," the girl mumbled.

 _That doesn't answer anything!_ Phoenix thought. "...What's your name?" He asked, after consideration. "Your real name."

"My name's Maya Fey," the girl, Maya, answered miserably, folding her hands in her lap.

"Maya Fey." _Fey…_ "Then… Mia, she's-!"

"Like I said, it's complicated." Maya looked away. "I don't want to talk about it."

"She doesn't know?" Phoenix stroked his chin, "But she must be family. Are you sure I shouldn't tell her, at least?"

"No!" Maya shot across to him, closing the space between beds quickly. "You can't tell anyone!"

"Why?"

Maya was silent for a moment. "...We're friends, right, Nick?" She looked at him and the young man swore that he could see the beginnings of tears form in her copper eyes. "Just trust me."

She continued to stare him down and her sad eyes didn't show any signs of weakening. "...Argh!" Phoenix relented. "Fine. I'll trust you on this one. I promise I won't tell."

"Yay!" Maya cheered, eyes clearing immediately.

 _Damn crocodile tears,_ the worker realized.

She hugged him. "Thanks, Nick! You won't regret it!"

Startled, Phoenix returned her hug. "Great. I'd hope not."

"You'll see," she promised. "Everything'll be fine!"

"I know," Phoenix shoved her away good-naturedly. "Get some sleep, Maya. We've got work in the morning."

* * *

 _ **September 2nd, 1836**_

 _Man,_ Phoenix thought, panting. The worker paused to catch his breath. _This building sure is big. So... many… stairs…_

"Hey you!" From his post next to the lone door on the top floor, Gumshoe stomped over to him. "What do you think you're doing, pal? You can't just come up here!"

"Actually, I-"

"No buts, pal! Get lost!" The guard was breathing heavily, shoulders heaving up and down. He stopped and scratched his head. "...Please?"

"Gumshoe." Edgeworth's voice called from inside his office. "Who's out there?"

"Just some worker, sir! I'm taking care of it!"

"Let him in."

"What?" Gumshoe's jaw dropped. "But Mr. Edgeworth, sir-"

"Hmph. Unless you would like your salary to suffer. In which case, feel free to continue."

Gumshoe whimpered. "S-Sorry." He slunk back to his post and opened the door for Phoenix. Feeling bad for the man, Phoenix offered a sympathetic smile before slipping inside.

Edgeworth's office was a wide open space with hardwood flooring. His desk looked like mahogany and there were two lanterns perched on it. Quills and ink were obsessively organized in a perfectly straight line down the side of his desk. There was a pink couch to Phoenix's left and a well-stocked bookcase as well as a reddish colored exit door to his right. In front of the bookcase was a red-and-blue chessboard that looked like it had never been touched. To the left, hanging on the wall was a gigantic oil painting of Edgeworth himself.

Behind the desk was an enormous window with magenta curtains. It provided a beautiful view of the entrance of the factory at a height that made Phoenix's knees wobble. An elaborate flower display was shunted off to the back of the room, as if the owner was ashamed of its presence. However, there was a lone green flower in a case displayed front and center on the desk.

"Have a seat." Edgeworth said, not looking up from his writing.

Phoenix ventured more into the room. Feeling nervous, he took a seat in the chair in front of the desk. _Why do I feel like I'm a kid who got in trouble? We're supposed to be meeting as friends. ...Or, I thought as friends._

Edgeworth finished filling out whatever form and pushed it and his quill off to the side. He steepled his fingers and stared at the desk. "...To be candid, I didn't think that you would come, Wright."

"Why not?" Phoenix tried to catch his eye, but Edgeworth stayed fixed on his hands. "I said that I wanted to talk to you, didn't I?"

"I suppose you did," the other man mused, lost in thought.

 _I didn't come all this way from Pennsylvania to talk to a brick wall,_ the worker thought with a flash of irritation. "Another green carnation, huh?" The young man switched the subject and spoke louder, finally, thankfully dragging Edgeworth's gaze from his own long, white fingers. "You must really like them."

"Yes." Edgeworth said, looking at the flower at length. "They mean something to me."

"I don't remember them being such a big deal when we were kids."

"It was more recent than that." Edgeworth didn't say anything after that.

Phoenix was beginning to get frustrated. _How hard is it to hold a conversation with you? We were doing fine last night!_

Phoenix looked around for something to talk about. "...Who did that?" He asked, nodding at the portrait of Edgeworth.

The factory owner furrowed his brow in an attempt to remember. "It was one of von Karma's servants. Her name eludes me."

Phoenix appraised the painting. "Well, it's not very good."

"What do you mean?" Edgeworth huffed. "It was done by one of the finest artists in the country!"

 _Touchy much?_ "It's nice, it's just… so dark. And bold. It's not you."

"And what would you know about fine art?"

"I studied to be an artist, actually," Phoenix said mildly.

Edgeworth looked at him funny. "...You did?"

"Yeah. I was pretty good at it too." The worker smiled. "Then I realized I had to do… other things." _I had to find you._

The factory owner remarked with interest, "Do you have any portfolio? This sort of claim I would like to see for myself."

"Er, no, I don't." Phoenix thought quickly. "But... if you'd let me, I could come back tomorrow and sketch you."

The other man nodded slowly. "...I would like that."

"Great!" _Finally, I'm getting somewhere!_ Though Edgeworth wasn't talking again, the other man seemed much more relaxed. He wasn't holding himself as rigidly, and he kept sneaking glances at Phoenix, like he was checking that the worker was still there.

There was still a half an hour left before lunch break ended. Phoenix stood and walked over to the chess set. "Hey, Edgeworth. Wanna play a few rounds?"

Dubiously, Edgeworth followed suit. "Do you even know how to play chess?"

"Nah, not a bit." Phoenix chuckled. "But I can learn."

Edgeworth tapped his forehead and smirked while he began setting up the pieces. "I warn you, I won't go easy on you…"

"I won't even need it," Phoenix grinned. "Bring it on!"

"Very well." Edgeworth was clearly pleased with the challenge. He pointed to a smaller piece. "Listen carefully, because I'll only say it once. That's a pawn. It can only move one space per turn…"

Phoenix watched the other man describe chess enthusiastically, paying close attention but not hearing a word at the same time.

 **Author's Note:**

 **Unfortunately guys, I can't update for a while. It's for a good reason, I promise! My family is going on a trip to Europe for 2 1/2 weeks. It's gonna be so lit, I've never been to Europe. Hopefully it'll give me some downtime where I can write more, because I've almost caught up to where I was when I started posting. Anyway, I hope you all enjoyed, feedback is very appreciated, but if not then you still have my sincere thanks for reading!**

 **(fun historical fact: by this time, photography had technically been invented, as the first photo was taken in ~1827 by a man named Joseph Nicéphore Niécpe however it was Louis Daguerre with his Daguerreotypes in 1837 that popularized photographed portraits, so it was still kinda more accurate to have an oil painting with Edgeworth instead. plus this gives me a chance to do a trashy "draw me like one of your french girls" scenes.)**

 **on an unprecedented last note, would anyone be interested if I started writing a narumitsu fantasy AU sometime?**


	8. Chapter 8

**Author's Note:**

 **Hey guys, I'm finally back from vacation in Europe it was great, I had a lot of fun! Now that I'm back, things should be back to normal. I'm also really grateful for the feedback I've gotten on the potential fantasy AU thing, because it's definitely happening. But maybe not for a bit. I want to get ahead and find my bearings before I start posting. I'm glad people are excited though! It means a lot!**

 **Warning for this chapter! (TW?) There is a kind of violent factory accident that happens. I don't know if it would qualify as graphic because I'm not aware of the standards. Violence isn't really my thing, so I'm not trying to gross anyone out, but it is described. If that sort of thing is not for you, skip the last section that occurs right after**  
 **"I'm going, I'm going"**

 **If you skip, I'll fill you in at the end notes.**

 _ **September 3rd, 1836**_

They had played four rounds of chess. Four. That's all Phoenix could think about the following day. Edgeworth had destroyed him in all of them, of course. The worker had no experience and he was up against a master.

But Edgeworth had looked so happy the whole time. The happiest that Phoenix had seen him in a long time. The young man would be thrilled to have let Edgeworth crush him in countless more rounds of chess just to see that satisfied look on the factory owner's gorgeous face.

 _Four rounds of chess…_ Phoenix thought wistfully. The loud crunch of the bolt compressing in the machine jerked him right out of his daydreams. While he hadn't been paying attention to his work, he had nearly lost his fingers. _God, Phoenix, concentrate!_ The young man scolded himself. He took a jittery step back from the spinning mule.

"We're out of cotton. I'll go get replacements!" Maya chirped, blissfully unaware of Phoenix's close brush with danger. She, _no, he,_ Phoenix reminded himself, _I've got to keep that in mind so I don't slip up._

"...Fool. She always goes so far away for replacements," Franziska spoke up, staring after Maya. The German girl gained his immediate attention; she rarely ever talked during work hours. "She never realizes that there's more cotton just down the aisle." Franziska clicked her tongue, but her exasperation seemed to be only fond. "I think she enjoys wasting time."

Phoenix retook his post. "I think that she-" _He! Don't expose her! Wait…_ His brain caught up to his mouth. Startled, he swung around to look at Franziska. "Wait. She? Y-You knew?"

Franziska turned to look at him coolly. "You didn't?"

"No…"

"Hmph. I thought it was obvious. And to think, this is the one who she calls her best friend."

Phoenix was too stunned to respond to the insult. "Then…" The gears in his mind were still turning, trying desperately to catch up. "Then… you… and Maya, together, you two are…"

Franziska swallowed, turning briskly back to her work. "Yes. Exactly."

"Wow…" _Two women… And if she knew what she was doing, then..._ The young man chuckled awkwardly. "Well, I guess that's a relief. Now I don't have to be the one to break it to you."

 _Brrrriiing!_

The lunch bell rang through the workroom. What Phoenix had been waiting for. The worker hastily shut off his machine. The young man tore off his work apron and reached for his art supplies. _Four rounds of chess…_ "Uh, gotta go, Franziska. I'll see you later!" His words came out in a rushed jumble as he practically vaulted over his station to head towards the stairwell.

The teenager stared after him, bemused. "Ah, yes. I imagine I will…"

* * *

"Wright, I-"

"Shhh," Phoenix chided. "Don't move. I'm almost done."

Edgeworth snorted, but stilled. He allowed the peaceful quiet to reclaim the room, broken only by the sound of scratching charcoal against paper.

The worker had been sketching for nearly twenty minutes. He squinted at Edgeworth, determined to make this sketch his best. _It's been forever since I've practiced drawing. I hope this turns out alright,_ Phoenix thought.

The young man tried to capture every detail, from the soft creases near Edgeworth's eyes to the hard lines set beside his mouth. He tried to show the awkward way that Edgeworth held himself; sitting up rigidly straight, tensed. As if he didn't want to be on the receiving end of anyone's attention.

Tongue poking out slightly, Phoenix finished outlining the little bit of gray hair that stuck out from the back of Edgeworth's head. Phoenix dropped the charcoal and blew stray markings off the paper. "Done!" he announced, dropping down to sit next to the factory owner.

Edgeworth took the sketch from him and looked over it with a hint of surprise.

Phoenix waited for the verdict. _He hardly looks pleased…_ "Ha, it's, uh, still just a rough sketch, I mean. If I had more time…" The young man laughed nervously, rubbing the back of his neck.

"I like it."

"You do?"

"Yes." Edgeworth looked almost impressed. "You're… you're quite good."

Phoenix felt his face go hot. He grinned goofily. "Thanks."

Edgeworth's expression was funny. "Of course…" He looked down at the sketch. "May I keep this?"

"Huh? Well, sure, if you want to." _I didn't think you'd like it that much._

Edgeworth nodded and stowed away the sketch with care. The motion caused their arms to brush. It was the tiniest of touches, but it set Phoenix's heart racing. That strange feeling was back. He swallowed. Edgeworth also froze mid-touch.

Phoenix quickly pulled his arm back. He laughed nervously. "Sorry. I was in your way."

The factory owner cleared his throat. "You were." After he tucked the sketch away, Edgeworth's gray eyes flickered over to the chessboard.

 _Four games of chess… He liked playing as much as I did._ Phoenix's treacherous brain whispered to him. "...Wanna play some more? I think I almost had you last time," The worker smiled at the other man cheekily.

"Hmph. You wish, Wright." Edgeworth sounded relieved that Phoenix had been the one to propose it. The factory owner moved over first, taking up the red side of the board. "You aren't even a challenge."

"We'll see about that."

They only got through three rounds that day, bringing Phoenix's total score up to seven lost, wonderful games. The eighth was interrupted by the clanging of the end-of-lunch bell. Phoenix was reluctant to go.

"I guess I'd better get back to work," the man grudgingly stood.

Edgeworth face was creased into a little frown. "You didn't eat."

"I didn't realize. Don't worry about it, I'll eat later." Phoenix assured him.

"We give you a lunch break for a reason," the factory owner huffed.

"You didn't eat either," the worker pointed out.

Edgeworth looked away. "...Bring lunch with you tomorrow."

It was an order, but Phoenix couldn't feel anything but giddy. _Tomorrow? This is going to be an everyday thing?_ Phoenix nodded quickly, a grin blooming on his face. He turned away so Edgeworth wouldn't see it. "I'll bring something for you too."

Edgeworth hesitated. "...Fine. Now get back to work. You're late." The other man glared at Phoenix, but there was no heat behind it.

"I'm going, I'm going."

* * *

Maya was chatting animatedly to Franziska as Phoenix approached. Her hand was on the German girl's arm, it hardly looked like much work was getting done. When the dark-haired girl spotted the worker, she directed her attention to him. "How was Mr. Edgeworth?" She asked, copper eyes twinkling.

 _I really don't like that look._ "He was good. I did a sketch of him. He seemed to like it." Unlike Maya, Phoenix tried to keep his voice down so that the whirring of the machines could cover the noise he was making. Socializing during work time was strictly forbidden, and although Mia and Diego were much more lenient than other overseers in other factories, they could still be scolded or have their pay deducted for talking.

Franziska's brow knitted. "I'm surprised at him. My little brother hates his portrait being painted. Papa had to practically force him into sitting for that work in his office."

Phoenix frowned. "He sat for me just fine."

"I wonder why that is," Maya said, her face the picture of innocence. The young man glared at her, but she wasn't cowed.

"...Papa is commissioning a portrait of me that I will sit for later today," Franziska chimed in a tad smugly. "It's an upcoming eighteenth birthday present."

"Oh yeah? Congratulations," Phoenix said absentmindedly. _Jeez. That explains the outfit._

Franziska looked even fancier than usual that day, with a white dress that had a high, stiff looking collar. It had intricate needlework done and long, lacy sleeve cuffs.

"Don't be surprised if you beauty overwhelms the poor painter and it doesn't come out right," Maya teased her girlfriend. "That kind of beauty even overwhelms me sometimes." She swooned ridiculously, forcing Franziska to catch her and shove her back onto her feet.

"Michael," the German girl hissed, "I thought we agreed, not during work hours!"

"Maybe you did, but I didn't agree to anything!"

Visibly flustered, Franziska refocused on work.

Maya turned back to Phoenix. "Okay, so you have to give me more detail on Mr. Edgeworth," she begged. "Please!"

"Well, we played chess."

"Pfft. You know how to play chess?"

"Hey! ...Well. Not really, but Edgeworth is teaching me. I've lost every game so far."

"Nick, you're such a los-" They were suddenly cut off by a bloodcurdling shriek on the left.

Both Phoenix and Maya whirled around to find the source of the scream. They didn't have to look far. In the middle of trying to mend a broken thread, Franziska had strayed too close to the frame of the machine. Her lacy sleeve got caught in a turning gear and, although she was struggling valiantly, the German girl's hand was soon pulled into the machine too.

"G-Get help!" Phoenix ordered Maya. The girl, eyes-wide, nodded and ran off. Phoenix turned to Franziska.

With no time to think of what to do, the worker grabbed hold of the terrified girl and tried to pull her free from the mercilessly still-churning gears. The action caused her to let out a strangled cry and begin cursing incessantly in German, but Phoenix didn't stop pulling. The machine had swallowed her up past the wrist and seemed determined to eat every inch of Franziska alive. All that the man could do was keep it from advancing further. Franziska was shaking in his hold like a leaf. He thought that the girl might be crying, but he wasn't sure.

From somewhere in the factory nearby, Diego raced over, skillfully weaving through rows and rows of machines to join the worker. Dimly aware of the help, relief flooded Phoenix from head to toe. _Good. I can't do this on my own._ Together, the two men slowly, and from the sounds she was making, very painfully extracted Franziska from a horrible fate.

The teenager's hand was mangled beyond belief. Every finger jutted out at an unnatural angle and the wrist itself hung straight down lifelessly. Blood flooded down the hand profusely, staining the now ripped white dress. Franziska herself had passed out sometime during the removal process. Phoenix couldn't blame her at all.

Diego gently propped her up against a wall. Panting, the blind overseer drew himself back up to his full height. "Good work, Trite."

"Good work?" Phoenix repeated disbelievingly. _I feel like I'm going to throw up!_

"Yeah, good work. She didn't die, did she?" The older man crossed his arms. "This filly lives to fight another day. That's good work. Don't start a new cup of coffee before your last one's through. That's one of my rules."

"I guess..." The words felt lame on Phoenix's tongue.

The Spaniard slouched against the nearest wall. "Michael told Kitten as well. She ran off to get an ambulance; they should be here soon."

Breathlessly, Phoenix nodded and sat down next to the unconscious Franziska.

A few minutes went by before Maya reappeared. The young worker knelt next to Phoenix. She observed her girlfriend's injuries with horror. She slipped her hand into Franziska's good one and rubbed her thumb across the back of it.

"D-Do you think she'll be okay?" Maya turned to ask Phoenix, voice trembling.

Unable to meet her eyes, Phoenix answered truthfully. "...I don't know."

 **Author's Note:**

 **For those of you who skipped, basically the only thing you need to know from that scene is that Franziska got her hand caught in a machine because of her fancy dress and now basically her entire arm is rekt. In actual history, she probably would have gotten pulled the whole way through the machine and totally killed but like hell I'm going to kill off the lesbians. Things get better.**

 **Thanks for reading, guys, it's good to be back!**

 **(fun historical fact. heads up 'cause this is going to be long and a lot of sort of mini facts: the machine Franz, Pheen, and Maya are operating is called a spinning mule. typically a single spinning mules was in fact operated by three workers; the minder, the side piecer, and the little piecer with the latter two usually being small boys. Phoenix is the minder and thus the head in this case though to be totally honest Franziska should really be the minder as she's been around the longest but. oh well. main character privilege. the little piecer and the minder would work one side of the mule and the side piecer got the other side. the piecers, due to their small size, were also responsible for cleaning underneath the machine when it was stopped which I'm sure you can imagine was very dangerous. it was also totally silent in the factory during work hours and pencils and little slips of colored paper were the only means of communication. which I. y'know. disregarded completely for the sake of having dialogue. whoops.)**


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